The light at the end of the tunnel: Tavis Adibudeen

My journey to Islam: Yusuf Islam, formerly pop singer Cat Stevens

My Journey To Islam: Muhammad Ali, formerly Cassius Clay

My Journey To Islam: Bogdan Ataullah Kopanski

My Journey To Islam: Murad Hofman, formerly Wilfried Hofman

Story of a Muslim sister

My Journey To Islam: Maryam Jameelah, formerly Ms. Margaret Marcus

Why I chose Islam: Jemima Goldsmith

My journey to Islam: Abd-ul-Waahid 'Bruce' Paterson

My Journey To Islam: Malcolm X, but really El-Hajj Malik al-Shabazz

A Woman on a Mission: Aisha Bhutta

Choosing Islam, One man's tale: Abd al-Hayy Moore

My Journey to Islam: S.S. Lai

My Journey to Islam: D. Beatty

My Journey to Islam: Ulf Karlsson

The light at the end of the tunnel : 
by Tavis Adibudeen
Many of the things people go through prepare them for life and mold the choices they make in the future. Islam, now the fastest growing religion in the US (at approx. 500,000 new converts a year), relays this very well. All of the converts (or more appropriately: reverts) to Islam have some significant or collection of insignificant events or people that shaped their concept of Islam. This concept, for them, became action. It is fair to say that many of the things that introduce a person to Islam are difficulties and misunderstandings. It has been said that one must crawl before they can walk, or you must get knocked down before you can be picked up again. 

This is often the case for new Muslims in America. They don’t realize how precious Islam is, until they realize how hard life can be. We are not prophets, and therefore there is no revelation to us. Instead, we must come to terms with our reality before touching our spirituality. For African Americans in America, this is a difficult road in which to travel. Today, there is an estimated 10 million Muslims in the United States, 2 million of which are African American. Furthermore, most of the new Muslims are of African descent. For them, it is a story of self discovery erased by 200 years of slavery. Some identify with Islam firstly because it was practiced by many of the their ancestors from Africa, and Christianity was forced on the slaves by Europeans. Others, because it clears obvious mistakes and exclusions of African Americans in Christianity. Most, however, find a combination of all these things with Islam. This is the road I had to travel. This
was my light at the end of the tunnel. I was raised in Indianapolis, Indiana from birth to Christian parents. My mother, raised in Tennessee, was a Methodist Christian and a frequent church attender. My father was non-
denominational and an occasional church attender. My mother was a very religious person, so my father, my sister, and I usually went to church with her.

From as early as I can remember, I was always surrounded by Christianity. My father and mother both worked, and they were trying to finish school. This meant that someone would have to take care of me during the day. Until I was about three, I had a baby sitter. Then, I started going to Noah’s Ark, a private Christian preschool. By this time my sister had started elementary school. Noah’s Ark was like living in Sunday school. We learned Bible verses, sang church songs, and also did general child type activities. I often remember bringing home little cards that had bible verses on them. If you memorized the verse, you would get a reward. I don’t really remember what the reward was. I guess I didn’t memorize enough to know what it was. On Sundays we all put on our best clothes and went to church. To me it seemed to be mostly singing and nodding of heads. At my youthful age, I had little understanding of what purpose any of the things we did served. In fact I still question that today, but I thought my mother knew everything (and compared to what I knew she did), so I did what she said. As I grew older, things seemed to drift away and eventually fall apart. My father began going to church less and less. 

For the first time, I was in a public school where the teaching of any religion is illegal, and I suddenly found myself in an environment much different from Noah’s ark. At this point in my life, there were two religions; one was Christianity, and the other one wasn’t. At ages six and seven, I had never heard of Judaism, Islam, Hinduism, Buddhism, or anything else. Actually, I knew of one other religion: Jehovah’s Witnesses. They seemed to just be strict Christians to me. My friend who lived across the street from me was a Jehovah’s Witness, but my impressions of them mostly came from the people who dressed up and went door to door trying to interest people. Often times, we tried to avoid opening the door, so they wouldn’t bother us.

The earliest church congregation that I remember was the one my mother stayed with until recently. In Christianity the minister preached for a living. He was paid by the congregation, and he lived in a house especially set aside by the church. Our first minister was energetic, but they got rid of him. The second was a women, who I thought was nice, but they got rid of her too. Then came a man who changed the way I looked at the religion. Maybe it was just because I was older, or maybe he actually had something to do with it. Regardless, I actually went to church to hear him, but that wasn’t until later in my life. They say, however, that children identify with their same sex parents, and I identified with my father. By the time I was in fifth grade, he usually only went to church on Christmas, Easter, and Mother’s Day. I soon followed. It actually wasn’t until several years later that the third minister would come to our church.

I had always loved Christmas, not because of its religious significance, but because it was a tradition to exchange gifts on that holiday. Many songs were about the birth of Jesus (alaiy his salaam), but it seemed as though there were and are just as many songs about Santa Claus. So, many stories existed about Santa Claus, that seemed ridiculous to an adult but were sacred when told to a child. A big, round, rosy cheeked white man supposedly flew through the sky (propelled by flying reindeer) on Christmas Eve dropping off presents at people’s houses. My sister and I believed in that for many years. We decorated Christmas trees, baked Christmas cookies, drank eggnog, and went to bed early on December 24 every year so Santa Claus could come down our Chimney at night and give us gifts. It seems so silly now, but it was something we believed and something our parents told us and helped us believe. Naturally, most children would eventually find out that Santa was fake and spread it to other kids. It was my sister that eventually told me.
All those years Mommy and Daddy had been putting the presents there at night, not Santa! I felt violated. I was taught at Noah’s Ark that we weren’t supposed to lie, yet Americans lie to their children every year. These Christian children seemed to hold the mystical Santa Claus more dear to them than the real Jesus Christ (ahs). Strike one.

At the age of eleven, Islam was introduced to me for the first time, although very briefly. In middle school we studied various cultures in my social studies classes. I only learned that “Muhammad(saw) was the prophet of Islam, and Muslims prayed five times a day.” I didn’t learn anything else. I did know of some famous Muslims such as boxer Muhammad Ali and basketball player Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, but I knew little about them. It was, however, the same year that Kareem played his last basketball game before retiring.

This was also the first real extensive amount of time I spent in a normal public school with normal classes and normal kids. I was suddenly not special anymore. I was not in higher classes than other kids anymore. It was as though I had to start over for no reason, but it exposed me to a wider variety of people. I became more in touch with people who looked like me. Middle school had many more African Americans (due to busing children) than I had ever seen outside of my old neighborhood.

I also began to realize things about white teachers and students. I had only read about racial discrimination until now. Suddenly, I was growing up, and teachers began to treat me like a “black male” instead of a student. This only made me realize other things about my religion. I began to wonder why all the pictures of Jesus (ahs) were pictures of a white man. Why was the son of God a white man? This seemed to indicate that black people were inferior to white people. Strike two.

As I progressed through Middle School, I became more aware of our differences. Blacks and Whites almost totally segregated themselves. It seemed as if all the things I read about were still happening. The more that white people did and said things that were mean and offensive to me, the harder I found it to love the son of God. I began to rationalize wondering if this white man was as racist as the white men with which I came in contact were. It came to the point where I almost became militant.

My grades began to fall as my black friends and I found little interest in the white school system. It seemed as though it wasn’t meant to teach us at all. We were excluded from history books and literature books. When we did achieve things, it was played down by the white teachers. By the time I reached the eighth grade, I didn’t even want to step one foot into a church. Ironically, it was about this time that I met the minister that had a different approach to Christianity. His teachings were more understandable and down to earth. I still found it hard, though. This was because he was saying one thing, yet the things and people around him said another. It was nearly required that you dress up for church. People talked about people if they didn’t or
couldn’t dress as nicely as they did. It was a fashion show. Most of the time was spent singing, or so it seemed. I didn’t see the point in singing, but it was beautiful when done correctly. I could not, however, deal with the fashion show. We became the models as we walked down the aisle. Gossip constantly circled about people in and outside the church. The things that I didn’t like about the world outside of church suddenly seemed to be a part of the church. Strike three.

It was at this time, my freshman year in high school that I declared I would never go to church again. I saw it as stupid and pointless. I didn’t feel comfortable there. Instead it felt like I was in a theater and the minister, my friend, was on stage. If he performed well he’d get paid and keep the seats filled. If he didn’t, his fate would resemble the two before him.

As if almost by fate, I first became aware of the religion called Islam. I had a friend in my English class who was a Muslim. After all this time, this was the first time I had come in contact with a Muslim. He mostly talked about the things that Muslims did. I listened, but I really didn’t show much interest in it. He never really said what their beliefs were, and I never asked. At age 15 I met another guy who was just a militant as I, if not more. I’ll call him MC. MC was the first person to ever tell me how bad pork really was. My mother, raised in the south, naturally cooked a lot of it. We had bacon, ham, sausage, hot-dogs, ribs, and she even ate chitterlings (pig intestines). It didn’t take long for me to give up pork totally. I realized how damaging it could
be to my health, but I also realized something deeper. So many black people eat pork because it was the meat that white slave masters didn’t want, so they gave the scraps to the black slaves. It became a regular food for our culture. It is no wonder that black people have a higher rate of heart attacks and high blood pressure that whites.

When I read deeper beneath the surface, MC helped me also realize that the Bible actually said that people were forbidden from eating the flesh of swine. Furthermore, other things, such as alcohol, fornication, adultery, and gambling were also forbidden, yet many Christians did it anyway. Luckily, I had never done any of that stuff. My parents and my early Noah’s Ark teachers had told me not to do that. That, however, did not necessarily apply to them.

At age 16 I began to feel totally betrayed by everyone, even Jesus (ahs). Everything, if anything, that ever appealed to me about Christianity had been yanked out from under me by the realities of my society. The more I look back and think about it, the more I understand. I never stopped believing in God, I just didn’t believe in all the extra things others associated with God. All my life I had just prayed to God. I truthfully rarely thought or even cared about Jesus. We were supposed to live our lives like him, but all I ever heard about his life were miracles. How are we to perform miracles? It seemed contradictory. I then began to look for something else. Jews had never been on good terms with African Americans, so I never really looked towards that. There was a group of Black Jews who believed that the actual children of Israel are African Americans. We have been here for 400 years, but many of the things they said seemed distant and unrealistic if not totally unimportant.

The more I thought, the more curiosity that arose in me about Islam. Many images had been placed before me about Muslims being terrorists and oppressing women, etc. I, however, had seen and lived real oppression. I had witnessed terrorism, and I knew that the things the Muslims I saw were doing were not bad. If anything, they were better than what I saw Christians doing. Based on this principle, I began to read about Islam. I’m not really sure what I read first. I read many articles about Muslim men and women. The articles touched me. One in particular which I still have today called, “Converts to the Faith” seemed to fit my situation exactly. It was then that I decided to buy a Qur’an from the book store. That summer I read the entire book from front to back.

It shocked me vividly. I had long been taught all of these miracles of Jesus and mystical things such as Santa Claus, but the Qur’an had a humanity about it. It seemed like a book that was meant to be read by human beings, not supernatural beings. It plainly told the rules and ways of living that all people should uphold. It was common sense. It was what everybody seemed to know but unconsciously denied it. For some time it was all I needed. I did nothing more than read parts over and over again trying to understand every part. It all made sense. There were no contradictions. God was but one God, Allah. It stressed showing compassion for the poor and the brotherhood of Muslims. For a long time, I didn’t even let anyone know I had bought it. 

The only reason I had waited until when I did was because I had learned to drive. That way no one would know I was considering this. For a long time I wondered what my mother would think if I became a Muslim. So, I did nothing for a little longer. I continued to pray as I always had: head bowed praying to my One
God, only now I called that God, Allah. I was already a Muslim at heart. I watched a lot of TV shows and read a lot of books on Islam that year. Naturally, my mother became aware of the pattern. I don’t know how much she knew about Islam, so it probably scared her. My father, who had since moved out when my parents got divorced, definitely seem worried that I might be getting into something bad. This was in part because my grades had not yet improved, and I was somewhat of a rebellious teenager.

I began to show some of my articles to my mother. I really didn’t show her much, and she really didn’t ask much. It was a time when I was alone by choice. My friends had either moved, died, or just gone in a different direction than I. I saw no need for them anyway. It was just me, my Qur’an, and my thoughts. Then, I decided I wanted more. I wanted to become a Muslim, and I couldn’t do it alone. I wanted to learn a better way to pray and glorify Allah. I wanted to learn more about Muhammad(sallahu alaiyhi wasalaam), and I wanted to meet people who believed in the book I had come to cherish.

In the summer of 1995, I started getting into the internet. It had many helpful things about Islam. The knowledge that I attained just by reading the things posted on the world wide web finally pushed me over the edge. I couldn’t deny my birth right. My parents, sister, and friends have always been supportive of me. I could only hope they would continue to do so, in spite of what I was about to do.

It was a late afternoon in September of 1995 when I began flipping through the yellow pages for something that said “Mosque.” I found two entries in the yellow pages. I called the first one and got no answer. Then, I called the second one, and the answer machine picked up giving an alternative phone number to call for help. I called the number, at this point shaking from nervousness. Many things were going through my head, “What if they don’t want to be bothered with me? What if they don’t accept me? What if I’m making the wrong decision?” I had always been a worrisome person. In fact, earlier that same year, I had worried myself into the hospital.

All they could ever conclude was that my stomach was inflamed. The only thing I could do was see a Psychologist who taught me how to relax, and I adhered to a strict diet. It still happens sometimes, but it is a rare thing.

I dialed the number not knowing what to expect or who I was calling. A woman answered the phone, and just said, “Hello?” That made me think that this must be a home phone number. I told her I was interested in Islam. I expected her to seem surprised, say she didn’t care, or just say, “and....,” but she didn’t. In fact she acted as if it happened all the time. She told me her husband, the Imam, was at work, and she would have him call me. All of my foolish worrying suddenly ended. I was calm now.

Later that night, he called me, and we talked for a long time. He too had reverted some 20 years ago. It was as though he had already lived through the same things I was telling him. Not only did he understand how I thought, but it seemed like he had once had the same thought process. It is natural to question the unknown, and that’s all I had done.

He invited me to Wednesday night Taleem at the Islamic Center. Oddly enough, it was a rainy night, and no one showed up that night. When I arrived, it was just he and I in an empty building discussing faith, politics, and life. After talking for at least an hour, one other person showed up, and they prayed. The first night I just watched. The second night I participated, and from that point forward, I was committed to this wonderful religion.

As I learned more about Muslims, I continued to study Islam. I started going to Arabic classes on Sundays, and I began to grow even more appreciative of the Glorious Qur’an. About one month after the day I first stepped into the Masjid, I took the Shahada. It was an emotional night for me. I still remember the brothers that were there to witness it, and I’m sure they remember too. Those words had so much meaning, and so much power. I may not feel that much joy and emotion again until Hajj. It was that powerful. When it was over, I went home and told everybody important to me. My mother was the first to know. She didn’t seem surprised. Instead she congratulated me as though she could feel my emotion.

My father had a less emotional response, but it was equally as approved. I’m still not sure what my sister’s feelings were about it, but she never objected. In fact, my whole family kept most of their opinions to themselves. That showed me that they trusted my judgment, and they were right for doing so. That was over one year ago when I took the Shahada. It wasn’t long after that when I learned to do many of the obligations such as salat, wu’du, the adhan, and other things. I had finally began my final journey. No longer would I turn around and go back. I knew this was a lifelong decision. Since that time, I have sometimes had to defend my decision to people, and maybe even justify my very way of life, but that hostility was often from people who were really interested but denying themselves as I had.

People have often asked me how I do it. They think Islam is hard. I tell them that after going through what it took me just to realize Islam, this religion is easy. Allah does not wish any difficulty on you. The Qur’an puts it in the most beautiful words that I will humbly display in English, 

“This day have those who Reject Faith given up All hope of your religion: Yet fear them not But fear Me. This day have I Perfected your religion For you, completed My favour upon you, And have chosen for you Islam as your religion.”—sura Al-Mã’ida, ayat 3.

The road which we travel to get where we intend to go is often worn by the time we get there. I have learned that Islam is a lifetime struggle. This is the essence of Jihad. Those who strive in the Name of their Lord are those who are the righteous. It has indeed been a ride for me. When I first became dissatisfied with Christianity, I entered a tunnel that appeared to have no end. My life seemed to be headed towards a fabricated way of living. With Islam, however, came my exit. It is the light at the end of the tunnel. No longer can I say that I live in self-inflicted solitude. No longer can I say I have lived my life in darkness. No longer can I worry what will happen next. No longer can I say that I am dissatisfied. All I can say is Al-Hamdulillah (praise be to Allah).

Courtesy: Geocities.

My journey to Islam 
Yusuf Islam, formerly pop singer Cat Stevens
All I have to say is all what you know already, to confirm what you already know, the message of the Prophet
(Sallallahu alaihi wa sallam - May Allaah's Peace and Blessings be upon him) as given by God - the Religion
of Truth. As human beings we are given a consciousness and a duty that has placed us at the top of creation. Man is created to be God's deputy on earth, and it is important to realize the obligation to rid ourselves of all illusions and to make our lives a preparation for the next life. Anybody who misses this chance is not likely to be given another, to be brought back again and again, because it says in Qur'an Majeed that when man is brought to account, he will say, "O Lord, send us back and give us another chance." The Lord will say, "If I send you back you will do the same." 

Courtesy: The Institute of Islamic Information and Education P.O. Box 41129 Chicago, IL 60641-0129 U.S.A.

My Journey to Islam
Muhammad Ali, formerly Cassius Clay 
American boxer, Three times World Heavyweight Champion, embraced Islam in 1965. 

I have had many nice moments in my life. But the feelings I had while standing on Mount Arafat (just outside
Mecca, Saudi Arabia) on the day of the Hajj (the Muslim pilgrimage), was the most unique. I felt exalted by the indescribable spiritual atmosphere there as over one and a half million pilgrims invoked God to forgive them for their sins and bestow on them His choicest blessings. 

It was an exhilarating experience to see people belonging to different colours, races and nationalities, kings,
heads of state and ordinary men from very poor countries all clad in two simple white sheets praying to God
without any sense of either pride or inferiority. 

It was a practical manifestation of the concept of equality in Islam. 

Courtesy: The Institute of Islamic Information and Education P.O. Box 41129 Chicago, IL 60641-0129 U.S.A.

My Journey To Islam
Bogdan Ataullah Kopanski
Polish, now American. Ph.D. in History & Politics. Was imprisoned twice by the Polish Communist Regime (1968, 1981-82) Embraced Islam in 1974. 

When I was 12 years old I rejected the illogical and contradictory faith of the Church. Two years later in 1962 I was fascinated by the victorious struggle of the Algerian Muslim Mujaahideen against French Colonialism. It was the first 'arrow' of Islam ... 

In high school and in the earliest days of my University education I was a typical example of 'rebel generation' Reds... My way to the Truth of the Qur'an was slow and unpaved... 

In 1974 I visited Turkey, and wrote my MA dissertation about Sultan and Caliph Suleiman Kanuni's policy
towards the Polish Kingdom. There I was hit by the most beautiful voice of mankind : ADHAAN, the call to
prayer. My hair stood up. An unknown powerful force led me to an old masjid (mosque) in Istanbul. There, an
old, smiling Turkish man taught me the WUDOO' , or ablution. I confessed to tears the SHAHAADAH
(proclamation of faith) and I prayed my first SALAAT-UL-MAGHRIB ( the Evening Prayer).. 

I swept out the rubbish ideologies... 

For the first time in my life my mind was relaxed and I felt the pleasure of Allah's love in my heart. I was a
Muslim... 

Courtesy: The Institute of Islamic Information and Education P.O. Box 41129 Chicago, IL 60641-0129 U.S.A.

My Journey To Islam
Murad Hofman, formerly Wilfried Hofman
Ph.D (Law) Harvard. German Social Scientist and Diplomat. Embraced Islam in 1980. 

For some time now, striving for more and more precision and brevity, I have tried to put on paper in a
systematic way, all philosophical truths, which, in my view, can be ascertained beyond reasonable doubt. In
the course of this effort it dawned upon me that the typical attitude of an agnostic is not an intelligent one; that man simply cannot escape a decision to believe; that the createdness of what exists around us is obvious; that Islam undoubtedly finds itself in the greatest harmony with overall reality. Thus I realize, not without shock, that step by step, in spite of myself and almost unconsciously, in feeling and thinking I have grown into a Muslim. Only one last step remained to be taken : to formalize my conversion. 

As of today I am a Muslim. I have arrived. 

STORY OF A MUSLIM SISTER 

"You're American? Oh, your husband must be from the Middle East." "But you weren't raised that way" "You better watch out for those men, I saw that movie." "But it's not you, I know you better" "Why are you trying to look like an Arab?" "It's the 90's, you don't have to dress that way, modernize." "Aren't you hot with all those clothes on." 

"THAT'S ENOUGH ALREADY" 

I am an American Christian raised woman. At the age of 23. I started learning about Islam, and eventually became Muslim (All thanks and praise to Allah). As a teenager and on into my 20's, I always made sure I looked my best, and actually I was voted best looking girl by my senior high school class. Full face of make-up, perfect hair, and always the clothes in trend. I had the best looking sports car, a great paying job as a hair designer, and I was always looking to have a good time. I was an independent
woman, and was never questioned about any decisions I made, or criticized about anything I did. 

When I became Muslim all that changed. Suddenly every one had something to say, I heard it all. I was no longer thought off as being able to use my adult mind the same way again. I was brain-washed, or I was doing it to please my husband. ("You can't change a person ." isn't that a common saying?) 

As a Christian, I was religious on Sunday mornings for an hour, or when the lottery numbers were being picked I would pray -" please God let me win", or when a loved one was hurt I would try to make a deal with God. And of coarse on holiday's. 

I am 28 now, and Islam is a way of life, my way of living. Everything I do, every minute of my day is now done differently. Especially, I pray 5 times a day . Believe me, you can not pretend to be a Muslim. These days I live a simple, peaceful, very moral life. I have no stress, no worries. My husbands' duty is to make sure I'm well cared for, and to provide for me. I am able to stay home and take care of my son according to my standards, not a baby-sitters'. I couldn't trade in his smiles for a pay check, his smiles are my pay. I read, I sew, I relax, and I have plenty of time to prepare fresh home cooked meals for my family. 

Oppressed ? Yes, I was oppressed last week , when my cordless phone broke and I had to use a regular
one. I wouldn't change my life now for anything. And if I was to divorce my husband, SURPRIZE, I'm still going to practice Islam in the same manner I do now. 

So if you are a friend or a family member of a convert to Islam, instead of being negative or against it, try to understand and respect the persons new way of life. And remember we are Islam. There is no question that will embarrass nor offend us. These people who are great scholars of Islam because they saw a movie, are not the correct source of telling you about my life. I saw a few movies about Italian's, so should I assume all Italian men are in the Mafia, deal drugs, kill people, and have girl friends on the side? NO! 

Believe me, I have a lot more to write about my hardships and hassles of being a Muslim. None of which pertains to the religion itself, but to what even perfect strangers have said or done to me. 

Oh yeah, did I mention I was also voted MOST LIKELY TO SUCCEED by my high school senior class. 

I feel as though I have.

My Journey To Islam
Maryam Jameelah, formerly Ms. Margaret Marcus
American, formerly Jewish. Essayist and journalist. Author of many books. Embraced Islam in 1962. 

The authority of Islamic Morals and Laws proceeds from Almighty God. Pleasure and Happiness in Islam
are but the natural by products of emotional satisfaction in one's duties conscientiously performed for the
pleasure of God to achieve salvation. In Islam duties are always stressed above rights. Only in Islam was
my quest for absolute values satisfied. Only in Islam did I at last find all that was true, good, beautiful and
which gives meaning and direction to human life and death. 

Courtesy: The Institute of Islamic Information and Education P.O. Box 41129 Chicago, IL 60641-0129 U.S.A.

HEADLINE: Why I chose Islam, by bride Jemima Goldsmith 

Sunday telegraph, May 28,1995
When Jemima Goldsmith, the 21-year-old daughter of billionaire Sir James, married Imran Khan she embraced not only the world's most handsome sportsman but also the Muslim faith, taking the name Haiqa. Here, in an exclusive account, she tells how she journeyed from the glamorous society of London to the austere religion of Lahore 

By Jemima Goldsmith 
The media present me as a naive, besotted 21-year-old who has made a hasty decision without really 
considering the consequences - thus effectively condemning herself to a life of interminable subservience,
misery and isolation. Although I must confess I have rather enjoyed the various depictions of a veiled and
miserable "Haiqa Khan" incarcerated in chains, the reality is somewhat different. Contrary to current opinion,
my decision to convert to Islam was entirely my own choice and in no way hurried. Whilst the act of conversion itself is surprisingly quick - entailing the simple assertion that "there is only one God and Muhammad(saw) is His Prophet" - the preparation is not necessarily so speedy a process. In my case, this began last July, whilst the actual conversion took place in early February - three months before the Nikkah in Paris. 

During that time, I studied in depth both the Qur'an and the works of various Islamic scholars (Gai Eaton, the
Bosnian president Alia Izetbegovic, Muhammad Asad) , thus giving me ample time to reflect before making
my decision. What began as intellectual curiosity slowly ripened into a dawning realisation of the universal
and eternal truth that is Islam. In the statement given out a week ago, I particularly stressed that I had converted to Islam entirely "through my own convictions". The significance of this has been largely ignored by
the press. The point is that my conversion was not, as so many have assumed, a pre-requisite to my
marriage. It was entirely my own choice. Religiously speaking, there was absolutely no compulsion for me to
convert prior to my marriage. As it explicitly states in the Qur'an, a Muslim is permitted to marry from "the
People of the Book" - in other words, either a Christian or a Jew. Indeed, the Sunnah - which describes the
life of the Prophet - shows that the messenger of Islam himself married both a Christian and a Jew during his
lifetime. 

I believe that much of this hostility towards my marriage and conversion stems from widespread  misconceptions about an alien culture and religion. Not only is there a huge gulf between the Western view of Islam and the reality, but there is in some cases also a significant distinction between Islam based directly on the Qur'an and the Sunnah and that practiced by some Islamic societies. During the last year I have had the opportunity to visit Pakistan on three separate occasions and have observed Islamic family life in practice. Thus, to some extent I now feel qualified to judge for myself the true role and position of women in the religion. At the risk of sounding defensive, I would like to point out that Islam is not a religion which subjugates women whilst elevating men to the status of mini-dictators in their own homes. 

I was able to see this first-hand when I met Imran's sisters in Lahore: they are all highly educated professional women. His oldest sister, Robina, is an alumnus of the LSE and holds a senior position in the United Nations in New York. Another sister, Aleema, has a master's degree in business administration and runs a successful business; Uzma is a highly qualified surgeon working in a Lahore hospital, whilst Rani is a university graduate who co-ordinates charity work. They can hardly be seen as "women in chains" dominated by tyrannical husbands. On the contrary, they are strong-minded independent women - yet at the same time they remain deeply committed both to their families and their religion. Thus, I was able to see - in theory and in practice - how Islam promotes the essential notion of the family unit without subjugating its female members. 

I am nevertheless fully aware that women are sometimes exploited and oppressed in Islamic societies, as in
other parts of the world. Judging by some of the articles which have appeared in the press, it would seem that a Western woman's happiness hinges largely upon her access to nightclubs, alcohol and revealing clothes; and the absence of such apparent freedom and luxuries in Islamic societies is seen as an infringement of her basic rights. However, as we all know, such superficialities have very little to do with true happiness. Besides, without in any way wishing to disparage the culture of the Western world, into which I was born, I am more than willing to forego the transient pleasures derived from alcohol and nightclubs; and as for the clothes I will be wearing, I find the traditional shalwar kameez (tunic and trousers) worn by most Pakistani women far more elegant and feminine than anything in my wardrobe. 

Finally, it seems futile to speculate on my chances of marital success. Marriage, as Imran's father has been
quoted as saying, is indeed "a gamble". However, when I see that in a society based on family life the divorce rate is just a fraction of that in European or American society, I cannot see that my chances of success are any less than if I had chosen to marry a Westerner. I am all too aware of the enormous task of adapting to a new and radically different culture. But with the love of my husband and the support of his family I look forward to the challenge wholeheartedly, and would like to feel that people wish me well. Whilst I do appreciate the genuine concerns of many, I must confess to feeling somewhat bewildered by all of the commotion. 

Courtesy: The Imperial College Islamic Society, UK

My journey to Islam 

Abd-ul-Waahid 'Bruce' Paterson,
Imperial computing graduate 1996
I would like to take the opportunity to share with you my journey to Islam and I feel that by sharing this experience with you I can help you on your journey through life. We are all born into different cultures, countries and religions in what often seems a confusing and troubled world. Actually, when we examine the world around us, we can easily see what a troubled state it is in: war, poverty and crime. Need I go on? Yet when we look at our own upbringing and our education, how can we be sure that all the things that we have been told, are in reality the truth?

Unfortunately, most people in the world decide to try to hide and escape from the world's problems rather than stand up and deal with the truth. Dealing with the truth is often the harder avenue to follow. The question is: Are you willing to stand up for the truth? Are you strong enough? Or, are you going to escape and hide like the rest?

I started my search for the truth a number of years ago. I wanted to find out the truth about the reality of our 
existence. Surely, to understand life correctly is the key to solving all the worldly problems that we are faced 
with today. I was born into a Christian family and this is where my journey began. I started to read the bible and to ask questions. I quickly became unsatisfied. The priest told me, "You just have to have faith." From reading the bible I found contradictions and things that were clearly wrong. Does God contradict himself? Does God lie? Of course not!

I moved on from Christianity, thinking the scriptures of the Jews and the Christians are corrupted so there is no way that I can find the truth form the false. I started finding out about Eastern Religions and Philosophies. Particularly Buddhism. I spent a long time meditating in Buddhist temples and talking to the Buddhist monks.
Actually, the meditating gave me a good clean feeling. The trouble was that it didn't answer any of my questions about the reality of existence. Instead it carefully avoided them in a way that makes it seem stupid
to even talk about it. 

I traveled to many parts of the world during my quest for the truth. I became very interested in tribal religions
and the spiritualist way of thinking. I found that a lot of what these religions were saying had truth in them but I
could never accept the whole religion as the truth. This was the same as where I started with Christianity!

I began to think that there was truth in everything and it didn't really matter what you believed in or what you
followed. Surely though this is a form of escaping. I mean, does it make sense: one truth for one person and
another truth for someone else? There can only be one truth!

I felt confused, I fell to the floor and prayed, "Oh, please God, I am so confused, please guide me to the truth."
This is when I discovered Islam.

Of course I always knew something about Islam but only what we naively hear in the West. I was surprised
though by what I found. The more that I read the Qur'an and asked questions about what Islam taught, the more truths I received. The striking difference between Islam and every other religion is that Islam is the only religion that makes a strict distinction between the creator and the creation. In Islam we worship the creator. Simple. You will find however, that in every other religion there is some form of worship involving creation. For example, worshipping men as incarnations of God, or stones. Sounds familiar. Surely though, if you are going to worship anything, you should worship the one that created all. The one that gave you your life and the one who will take it away again. In fact, in Islam, the only sin that God will not forgive is the worship of
creation.

However, the truth of Islam can be found in the Qur'an. The Qur'an is like a text book guide to life. In it you will
find answers to all questions. For me, everything I had learnt about all the different religions, everything that I
knew to be true, fitted together like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. I had all the pieces all along but I just did not
know how to fix them together.

I would therefore like to ask you to consider Islam now. The true Islam as described in the Qur'an. Not the Islam that we get taught about in the West. You may at least be able to cut down your journey in search of the
truth about life. I pray for your success, regardless.

By Abd-ul-Waahid Paterson

Courtesy:  The Imperial College Islamic Society, UK

My Journey To Islam
Malcolm X, but really El-Hajj Malik al-Shabazz

Malcolm X - An Islamic Perspective
Adapted from the pamphlet Malcolm X: Why I Embraced Islam by Yusuf Siddiqui. Quotes taken from The Autobiography of Malcolm X as told to Alex Haley. 

Malcolm X Timeline

May 19, 1925 - Born Malcolm Little in Omaha, Nebraska 

1940 - Drops out of school at age 15 

1946 - Convicted of burglary and sent to prison 

1949 - 1951 - Studies the Nation of Islam 

1952 - Leaves prison, dedicates himself to Nation of Islam, changes name to Malcolm X 

Jan. 14, 1958 - Marries Betty X 

Dec. 4, 1963 - Suspended from the Nation of Islam 

March 1964 - Leaves Nation of Islam, starts the Muslim Mosque, Inc. 

Apr. 22, 1964 - Makes his Hajj and becomes El-Hajj Malik al-Shabazz 

Jun. 28, 1964 - Forms the Organization of Afro-American Unity 

Jul. 17, 1964 - Speaks at the Organization of African Unity in Cairo 

Aug. 13, 1964 - U.S. State and Justice Departments take notice of his influence on African leaders at the
U.N. 

Feb 21, 1965 - Al Hajj Malik assassinated in New York 

Early Life
On May 19, 1925 in Omaha, Nebraska, Malcolm Little was born to Reverend Earl and Louise Little. Rev. Little, who believed in self-determination and worked for the unity of black people. Malcolm was raised in a background of ethnic awareness and dignity, but violence was sparked by white racists trying to stop black
people such as Rev. Little from preaching the black cause. 

The history of Malcolm's dedication to black people, like that of his father, may have been motivated by a long history of oppression of his family. As a young child, Malcolm, his parents, brothers, and sisters were shot at, burned out of their home, harassed, and threatened. This culminated in the murder of his father by white racists when Malcolm was six. 

Malcolm became a drop-out from school at the age of fifteen. Learning the ways of the streets, Malcolm became acquainted with hoodlums, thieves, dope peddlers, and pimps. Convicted of burglary at twenty, he
remained in prison until the age of twenty-seven. During his prison stay he attempted to educate himself. In
addition, during his period in prison he learned about and joined the Nation of Islam, studying the teachings of Elijah Muhammed fully. He was released, a changed man, in 1952. 

The 'Nation of Islam'
Upon his release, Malcolm went to Detroit, joined the daily activities of the sect, and was given instruction by
Elijah Muhammad himself. Malcolm's personal commitment helped build the organization nation-wide, while
making him an international figure. He was interviewed on major television programs and by magazines, and spoke across the country at various universities and other forums. His power was in his words, which so
vividly described the plight of blacks and vehemently incriminated whites. When a white person referred to the fact that some Southern university had enrolled black freshmen without bayonets, Malcolm reacted with scorn:

When I "slipped," the program host would leap on the bait: "Ahhh! Indeed, Mr. Malcolm X -- you can't deny
that's an advance for your race!" 

I'd jerk the pole then. "I can't turn around without hearing about some 'civil rights advance'! White people seem to think the black man ought to be shouting 'hallelujah'! Four hundred years the white man has had his foot-long knife in the black man's back -- and now the white man starts to wiggle the knife out, maybe six inches! The black man's supposed to be grateful? Why, if the white man jerked the knife out, it's still going to leave a scar! 

Although Malcolm words often stung with the injustices against blacks in America, the equally racist views of
the Nation of Islam kept him from accepting any whites as sincere or capable of helping the situation. For
twelve years he preached that the white man was the devil and the "Honorable Elijah Muhammad" was God's messenger. Unfortunately, most images of Malcolm today focus on this period of his life, although the
transformation he was about to undergo would give him a completely different, and more important, message for the American people. 

The Change to True Islam
On March 12, 1964, impelled by internal jealousy within the Nation of Islam and revelations of Elijah Mohammed's sexual immorality, Malcolm left the Nation of Islam with the intention of starting his own
organization: 

I feel like a man who has been asleep somewhat and under someone else's control. I feel what I'm thinking
and saying now is for myself. Before, it was for and by guidance of another, now I think with my own mind. 

Malcolm was thirty-eight years old when he left Elijah Muhammad's Nation of Islam. Reflecting on reflects that occurred prior to leaving, he said: 

At one or another college or university, usually in the informal gatherings after I had spoken, perhaps a dozen generally white-complexioned people would come up to me, identifying themselves as Arabian, Middle Eastern or North African Muslims who happened to be visiting, studying, or living in the United States. They had said to me that, my white-indicting statements notwithstanding, they felt I was sincere in considering myself a Muslim -- and they felt if I was exposed to what they always called "true Islam," I would "understand it, and embrace it." Automatically, as a follower of Elijah, I had bridled whenever this was said. But in the privacy of my own thoughts after several of these experiences, I did question myself: if one was sincere in professing a religion, why should he balk at broadening his knowledge of that religion? 

Those orthodox Muslims whom I had met, one after another, had urged me to meet and talk with a Dr. Mahmoud Youssef Shawarbi. . . . Then one day Dr. Shawarbi and I were introduced by a newspaperman. He was cordial. He said he had followed me in the press; I said I had been told of him, and we talked for fifteen or twenty minutes. We both had to leave to make appointments we had, when he dropped on me something whose logic never would get out of my head. He said, "No man has believed perfectly until he wishes for his brother what he wishes for himself." 

The Effect of the Pilgrimage
Malcolm further continues about the Hajj: 

The pilgrimage to Mecca, known as the Hajj, is a religious obligation that every orthodox Muslim fulfills, if able, at least once in his or her lifetime. 

The Holy Qur'an says it, "Pilgrimage to the House [of God built by the prophet Abraham] is a duty men owe to God; those who are able, make the journey." (3:97) 

Allah said: "And proclaim the pilgrimage among men; they will come to you on foot and upon each lean camel, they will come from every deep ravine" (22:27). 

Every one of the thousands at the airport, about to leave for Jeddah, was dressed this way. You could be a king or a peasant and no one would know. Some powerful personages, who were discreetly pointed out to me, had on the same thing I had on. Once thus dressed, we all had begun intermittently calling out "Labbayka! (Allahumma) Labbayka!" (Here I come, O Lord!) Packed in the plane were white, black, brown, red, and yellow people, blue eyes and blond hair, and my kinky red hair -- all together, brothers! All honoring the same God, all in turn giving equal honor to each other. . . . 

That is when I first began to reappraise the "white man." It was when I first began to perceive that "white man," as commonly used, means complexion only secondarily; primarily it described attitudes and actions. In America, "white man" meant specific attitudes and actions toward the black man, and toward all other non-white men. But in the Muslim world, I had seen that men with white complexions were more genuinely brotherly than anyone else had ever been. That morning was the start of a radical alteration in my whole outlook about "white" men. 

There were tens of thousands of pilgrims, from all over the world. They were of all colors, from blue-eyed blondes to black-skinned Africans. But we were all participating in the same ritual displaying a spirit of unity and brotherhood that my experiences in America had led me to believe never could exist between the white an d the non-white...America needs to understand Islam, because this is the one religion that erases from its society the race problem. Throughout my travels in the Muslim world, I have met, talked to, and even eaten with people who in America would have been considered white -- but the "white" attitude was removed from their minds by the religion of Islam. I have never before seen sincere and true brotherhood practiced by all colors together, irrespective of their color. 

Malcolm's New Vision of America
Malcolm continues: 

Each hour here in the Holy Land enables me to have greater spiritual insights into what is happening in America between black and white. The American Negro never can be blamed for his racial animosities -- he is only reacting to four hundred years of the conscious racism of the American whites. But as racism leads America up the suicide path I do believe, from the experiences that I have had with them, that the whites of the younger generation, in the colleges and universities, will see the handwriting on the wall and many of them will turn to the spiritual path of truth -- the only way left to America to ward off the disaster that racism inevitably must lead to. 

I believe that God now is giving the world's so-called 'Christian' white society its last opportunity to repent and atone for the crimes of exploiting and enslaving the world's non-white peoples. It is exactly as when God gave Pharaoh a chance to repent. But Pharaoh persisted in his refusal to give justice to those who he oppressed. And, we know, God finally destroyed Pharaoh. 

I will never forget the dinner at the Azzam home with Dr. Azzam. The more we talked, the more his vast reservoir of knowledge and its variety seemed unlimited. He spoke of the racial lineage of the descendants of Muhammad(saw) the Prophet, and he showed how they were both black and white. He also pointed out how color, and the problems of color which exist in the Muslim world, exist only where, and to the extent that, that area of the Muslim world has been influenced by the West. He said that if on encountered any differences based on attitude toward color, this directly reflected the degree of Western influence. 

The Oneness of Man Under One God
It was during his pilgrimage that he began to write some letters to his loyal assistants at the newly formed Muslim Mosque in Harlem. He asked that his letter be duplicated and distributed to the press: 

Never have I witnessed such sincere hospitality and the overwhelming spirit of true brotherhood as is practiced by people of all colors and races here in this ancient Holy Land, the House of Abraham, Muhammad(saw), and all the other Prophets of the Holy Scriptures. For the past week, I have been utterly speechless and spellbound by the graciousness I see displayed all around me by people of all colors. . 

You may be shocked by these words coming from me. But on this pilgrimage, what I have seen, and experienced, has forced me to rearrange much of my thought-patterns previously held, and to toss aside some of my previous conclusions. This was not too difficult for me. Despite my firm convictions, I have always been a man who tries to face facts, and to accept the reality of life as new experience and new knowledge unfolds it. I have always kept an open mind, which necessary to the flexibility that must go hand in hand with every form of intelligent search for truth. 

During the past eleven days here in the Muslim world, I have eaten from the same plate, drunk from the same glass, and slept in the same bed (or on the same rug) -- while praying to the same God -- with fellow Muslims, whose eyes were the bluest of blue, whose hair was the blondest of blond, and whose skin was the whitest of white. And in the words and in the actions and in the deeds of the "white" Muslims, I felt the same sincerity that I felt among the black African Muslims of Nigeria, Sudan, and Ghana. 

We were truly all the same (brothers) -- because their belief in one God had removed the "white" from their
minds, the 'white' from their behavior, and the 'white' from their attitude. 

I could see from this, that perhaps if white Americans could accept the Oneness of God, then perhaps, too, they could accept in reality the Oneness of Man -- and cease to measure, and hinder, and harm others in terms of their "differences" in color. 

With racism plaguing America like an incurable cancer, the so-called "Christian" white American heart should be more receptive to a proven solution to such a destructive problem. Perhaps it could be in time to save America from imminent disaster -- the same destruction brought upon Germany by racism that eventually destroyed the Germans themselves. 

They asked me what about the Hajj had impressed me the most. . . . I said, "The brotherhood! The people of all races, color, from all over the world coming together as one! It has proved to me the power of the One God. . . . All ate as one, and slept as one. Everything about the pilgrimage atmosphere accented the Oneness of Man under One God. 

Malcolm returned from the pilgrimage as El-Hajj Malik al-Shabazz. He was afire with new spiritual insight. For him, the struggle had evolved from the civil rights struggle of a nationalist to the human rights struggle of an internationalist and humanitarian. 

After the Pilgrimage
White reporters and others were eager to learn about El-Hajj Malik's newly-formed opinions concerning themselves. They hardly believed that the man who had preached against them for so many years could suddenly turn around and call them brothers. To these people El-Hajj Malik had this to say: 

You're asking me "Didn't you say that now you accept white men as brothers?" Well, my answer is that in the Muslim world, I saw, I felt, and I wrote home how my thinking was broadened! Just as I wrote, I shared true, brotherly love with many white-complexioned Muslims who never gave a single thought to the race, or to the complexion, of another Muslim. 

My pilgrimage broadened my scope. It blessed me with a new insight. In two weeks in the Holy Land, I saw
what I never had seen in thirty-nine years here in America. I saw all races, all colors, -- blue-eyed blondes to
black-skinned Africans -- in true brotherhood! In unity! Living as one! Worshipping as one! No segregationists -- no liberals; they would not have known how to interpret the meaning of those words. 

In the past, yes, I have made sweeping indictments of all white people. I will never be guilty of that again -- as I know now that some white people are truly sincere, that some truly are capable of being brotherly toward a black man. The true Islam has shown me that a blanket indictment of all white people is as wrong as when whites make blanket indictments against blacks. 

To the blacks who increasingly looked to him as a leader, El-Hajj Malik preached a new message, quite the
opposite of what he had been preaching as a minister in the Nation of Islam: 

True Islam taught me that it takes all of the religious, political, economic, psychological, and racial ingredients, or characteristics, to make the Human Family and the Human Society complete. 

Since I learned the truth in Mecca, my dearest friends have come to include all kinds -- some Christians, Jews, Buddhists, Hindus, agnostics, and even atheists! I have friends who are called capitalists, Socialists, and Communists! Some of my friends are moderates, conservatives, extremists -- some are even Uncle Toms! My friends today are black, brown, red, yellow, and white! 

I said to my Harlem street audiences that only when mankind would submit to the One God who created all -- only then would mankind even approach the "peace" of which so much talk could be heard...but toward which so little action was seen. 

Too Dangerous to Last
El-Hajj Malik's new universalistic message was the U.S. establishment's worst nightmare. Not only was he appealing to the black masses, but to intellectuals of all races and colors. Now he was consistently demonized by the press as "advocating violence" and being "militant," although in actuality he and Dr. Martin Luther King were moving closer together in outlook: 

The goal has always been the same, with the approaches to it as different as mine and Dr. Martin Luther King's non-violent marching, that dramatizes the brutality and the evil of the white man against defenseless
blacks. And in the racial climate of this country today, it is anybody's guess which of the "extremes" in approach to the black man's problems might personally meet a fatal catastrophe first -- "non-violent" Dr. King, or so-called "violent" me." 

El-Hajj Malik knew full well that he was a target of many groups. In spite of this, he was never afraid to say what he had to say when he had to say it. As a sort of epitaph at the end of his autobiography, he says: 

I know that societies often have killed the people who have helped to change those societies. And if I can die having brought any light, having exposed any meaningful truth that will help to destroy the racist cancer that is malignant in the body of America -- then, all of the credit is due to Allah(swt). Only the mistakes have been mine. 

The Legacy of Malcolm X
Although El-Hajj Malik knew that he was a target for assassination, he accepted this fact without requesting police protection. On February 21, 1965, while preparing to give a speech at a New York hotel, he was shot
by three black men. He was three months short of forty, the age of maturity according to the Qur'an. While it is clear that the Nation of Islam had something to do with the assassination, many people believe there was more than one organization involved. The FBI, known for its anti-black movement tendency, has been suggested as an accomplice. We may never know for sure who was behind El-Hajj Malik's murder, or, for that matter, the murder of other national leaders in the early 1960s. 

Malcolm X's life has affected Americans in many important ways. His conversion must have had an influence
on Elijah Muhammad's son, Wallace Muhammad, who, after his father's death, led the Nation of Islam's
followers into orthodox Islam. African-Americans' interest in their Islamic roots has flourished since El-Hajj
Malik's death. Alex Haley, who wrote Malcolm's autobiography, later wrote the epic Roots about an African
Muslim family's experience with slavery. More and more African-Americans are becoming Muslim, adopting
Muslim names, or exploring African culture. Interest in Malcolm X has seen a surge recently due to Spike
Lee's movie, X. El-Hajj Malik is a source of pride for African-Americans, Muslims, and Americans in general. His message is simple and clear: 

I am not a racist in any form whatever. I don't believe in any form of racism. I don't believe in any form of discrimination or segregation. I believe in Islam. 

Courtesy: The Imperial College Islamic Society, UK

A Woman on a Mission
By Aisha Bhutta
The Guardian Newspaper, England
Thursday 8th May 1997

Aisha Bhutta, also known as Debbie Rogers, is serene. She sits on the sofa in big front room of her tenement flat in Cowcaddens, Glasgow. The walls are hung with quotations from the Qur'an, a special clock to remind the family of prayer times and posters of the Holy City of Mecca. Aisha's piercing blue eyes sparkle with evangelical zeal, she smiles with a radiance only true believers possess. Her face is that of a strong Scots lass - no nonsense, good-humored - but it is carefully covered with a 'hijab'.

For a good Christian girl to convert to Islam and marry a Muslim is extraordinary enough. But more than that, she has also converted her parents, most of the rest of her family and at least 30 friends and neighbors.

Her family were austere Christians with whom Rogers regularly attended Salvation Army meetings. When all the other teenagers in Britain were kissing their George Michael posters goodnight, Rogers had pictures of Jesus up on her wall. And yet she found that Christianity was not enough; there were too many unanswered questions and she felt dissatisfied with the lack of disciplined structure for her beliefs. "There had to be more for me to obey than just doing prayers when I felt like it."

Aisha had first seen her future husband, Mohammad Bhutta, when she was 10 and regular customer at the shop, run by his family. She would see him in the back, praying. "There was contentment and peace in what he was doing. He said he was a Muslim. I said: What's a Muslim?".

Later with his help she began looking deeper into Islam. By the age of 17, she had read the entire Qur'an in Arabic. "Everything I read", she says, "was making sense."

She made the decision to convert at16. "When I said the words, it was like a big burden I had been carrying on my shoulders had been thrown off. I felt like a new-born baby."

Despite her conversion however, Mohammad parents were against their marrying. They saw her as a Western woman who would lead their eldest son astray and give the family a bad name; she was, Mohammad's father believed, "the biggest enemy."

Nevertheless, the couple married in the local mosque. Aisha wore a dress hand-sewn by Mohammad's mother and sisters who sneaked into the ceremony against the wishes of his father who refused to attend.

It was his elderly grandmother who paved the way for a bond between the women. She arrived from Pakistan where mixed-race marriages were even more taboo, and insisted on meeting Aisha. She was so impressed by the fact that she had learned the Qur'an and Punjabi that she convinced the others; slowly, Aisha, now 32, became one of the family.

Aisha's parents, Michael and Marjory Rogers, though did attend the wedding, were more concerned with the clothes their daughter was now wearing (the traditional shalwaar kameez) and what the neighbors would think. Six years later, Aisha embarked on a mission to convert them and the rest of her family, bar her sister ("I'm still working on her). "My husband and I worked on my mum and dad, telling them about Islam and they saw the changes in me, like I stopped answering back!"

Her mother soon followed in her footsteps. Marjory Rogers changed her name to Sumayyah and became a devout Muslim. "She wore the hijab and did her prayers on time and nothing ever mattered to her except her connections with God."

Aisha's father proved a more difficult recruit, so she enlisted the help of her newly converted mother (who has since died of cancer). "My mum and I used to talk to my father about Islam and we were sitting in the sofa in the kitchen one day and he said: "What are the words you say when you become a Muslim?" "Me and my mum just jumped on top of him." Three years later, Aisha's brother converted "over the telephone - thanks to BT", then his wife and children followed, followed by her sister's son.

It didn't stop there. Her family converted, Aisha turned her attention to Cowcaddens, with its tightly packed rows of crumbling, gray tenement flats. Every Monday for the past 13 years, Aisha has held classes in 
Islam for Scottish women. So far she has helped to convert over 30. The women come from a bewildering array of backgrounds. Trudy, a lecturer at the University of Glasgow and a former Catholic, attended Aisha's classes purely because she was commissioned to carry out some research. But after six months of classes she converted, deciding that

Christianity was riddled with "logical inconsistencies". "I could tell she was beginning to be affected by the talks", Aisha says. How could she tell? "I don't know, it was just a feeling."

The classes include Muslim girls tempted by Western ideals and needing salvation, practicing Muslim women who want an open forum for discussion denied them at the local male-dominated mosque, and those simply interested in Islam. Aisha welcomes questions. "We cannot expect people blindly to believe."

Her husband, Mohammad Bhutta, now 41, does not seem so driven to convert Scottish lads to Muslim brothers. He occasionally helps out in the family restaurant, but his main aim in life is to ensure the couple's five children grow up as Muslims. The eldest, Safia, "nearly 14, alhumidlillah (Praise be to God!)", is not averse to a spot of recruiting herself. One day she met a woman in the street and carried her shopping, the woman attended Aisha's classes and is now a Muslim.

"I can honestly say I have never regretted it", Aisha says of her conversion to Islam. "Every marriage has its ups and downs and sometimes you need something to pull you out of any hardship. But the Prophet(saw),
said: 'Every hardship has an ease.' So when you're going through a difficult stage, you work for that ease to come."

Mohammad is more romantic: "I feel we have known each other for centuries and must never part from one another. According to Islam, you are not just partners for life, you can be partners in heaven as well, for ever. Its a beautiful thing, you know."

Choosing Islam : One man's tale
By Abd al-Hayy Moore
I became a Muslim when it seemed I had already accepted Islam in my bones, as if beyond choice, and I only had to make a leap to embrace it formally. Outwardly I was content; inwardly I was coasting. My three-year-old theatre company was disbanded after a hilariously chaotic production for a Tim Leary Benefit at the Family Dog in San Francisco, circa '68 -- naturally the orange juice everyone had passed around was spiked, so that chorus members were doing the final scene in the first ten minutes -- and for six months I had been methodically typing out poetry manuscripts in my attic in Berkeley preparatory to a big publishing peak.

I considered myself a Zen Buddhist. But I was other things as well. My normal routine was to get up, sit zazen, smoke a joint, do half an hour of yoga, then read the "Mathnawi" of Rumi, the long mystical poem of that great Persian Sufi of the thirteenth century.

Then I met the man who was to be my guide to our teacher in Morocco, Shaykh Muhammad ibn al-Habib, may Allah be pleased with him. At first the meeting was simply remarkable, and my guide simply a remarkable man. But soon our encounter was to become extraordinary, leading to a revolution in my life from which I have never recovered and never hope to.

The man looked like an eccentric Englishman. He too had only recently come out of the English version of the Hippie Wave. He was older, refined in his manners, spectacularly witty and intellectual, but of that kind prevalent then who had hobnobbed with the Beatles and knew the Tantric Art collection of Brian Jones firsthand. He had been on all the classic drug quests -- peyote in the Yucatan, mescaline with Laura Huxley --
but with the kif quest in Morocco he had stumbled on Islam and then the Sufis, and the game was up. A
profound change had taken place in his life that went far beyond the psychedelic experience.

For the three days following our meeting, two other Americans and I listened in awe as this magnificent storyteller unfolded the picture of Islam, of the perfection of the Prophet Muhammad, peace be upon him, of
the Sufis of Morocco, and of the 100-year-old plus Shaykh, sitting under a great fig tree in a garden with his
disciples singing praises of Allah. It was everything I'd always dreamed of. It was poetry come alive. It was the visionary experience made part of daily life, with the Prophet a perfectly balanced master of wisdom and
simplicity, an historically accessible Buddha, with a mixture of the earthiness of Moses, the other worldliness
of Jesus, and a light all his own.

The prophetic knowledge our guide talked about was a kind of spiritual existentialism. It was a matter of how
you enter a room, which foot you entered with, that you sipped water but gulped milk, that you said, "Bismillah" (In the Name of Allah) before eating or drinking, and "Al-hamdulillah" (Praise be to Allah) afterwards, and so on. But rather than seeing this as a burden of hundreds of "how-to's," it was more like what the LSD experience taught us, that there is a "right" way to do things that has, if you will, a cosmic resonance. It is a constant awareness of courtesy to the Creator and His creation that itself ensures and almost visionary intensity.

It is hard to put forward any kind of explanation of Islam, to try to suggest the beauty of its totality, through the
medium of words. The light of Islam, since it is transformational and alchemical in nature, almost always
comes via a human messenger who is a transmitter of the picture by his very being.

Face to face with our guide, what struck us most was his impeccable, noble behavior. He seemed to be living what he was saying. Finally the moment came, as a surprise, when he confronted me with my life. "Well," he said one morning after three full days of rapturous agreement that what he was bringing to us was the best thing we'd ever heard, "What do you think? Do you want to become a Muslim?"

I hedged. "It's the most beautiful thing I've heard about so far. After all my Zen Buddhism, all my yoga, Tibetan Buddhism and Hindu gurus, this is certainly it! But I think I would like to travel a little, see the world, go to Afghanistan (then unoccupied), maybe meet my Shaykh in a mountain village far off somewhere."

"That's not good enough. You have to decide now. Yes or no. If it's yes, then we start on a great adventure. If
it's no, then no blame, I've done my duty. I'll just say goodbye and go on my way. But you have to decide now.
I'll go downstairs and read a magazine and wait. Take your time."

When he had left the room I saw there was no choice. My whole being had already acquiesced. All my years
up to that moment simply rolled away. I was face-to-face with worship of Allah, wholly and purely, with the Path before me well-trodden, heavily signposted, with a guide to a Master plunk in front of me. Or I could reject all of this for a totally self-invented and uncertain future.

It was the day of my birthday, just to make it that much more dramatic. I chose Islam.

Mr. Abd al-Hayy Moore has two books of poetry published by City Lights under the name Daniel Moore. He's traveled extensively, living in England, Morocco, Algeria, Nigeria and Spain. Mr. Moore is a talented writer and poet, and has turned his talents in writing for Islam. He is a contributor to "The Minaret" and other publications. His more recent publications are "The Chronicles of Akhira," "Halley's Comet" and Holograms. His writings and publications may be obtained from Zilzal Press, 126 North Milpas Street, Santa Barbara, CA 93103, U.S.A.

Courtesy: The Institute of Islamic Information and Education P.O. Box 41129 Chicago, IL 60641-0129 U.S.A.

My Journey to Islam
By S.S. Lai

The day I write this, I have lived my life knowing what Islam means for approximately 5 years and 11 months. I reverted to Islam on the 5th October 1991. I believed that every child is born in a pure state and that only their parents brought them up to the way they think best and the only way they probably know how. May Allah guides their hearts to Islam.

I came from a Chinese background. My whole families believed in worshipping the idols and the dead ancestors. Throughout my childhood I was made to believe that there were many gods, god of mercy, wealth etc., Every year, I would had high hope and enthusiasm that my grandfather would bring me to the temple to worship 'our' gods. What drew me to them as a child was that there were many foods ( I thought the foods would taste nicer because they had been worship to the great and mighty ones ) and the 'gods' look very mystique. Some of the idols projects a sense of fear, some beauty and this lists go on and on. On that day, we would burnt paper money and worship our 'gods' using some incense sticks. We would observe all these in silence and these brings more impact to my young mind. I used to hope that one day I would know how to say the words that my grandfather said to the idols and the little secrets and tricks he used with the 'magic
stones'. 

At home we have pictures of dead ancestors . Every fullmoon , I would eagerly ask my grandmother if she would honor me by throwing the two coins. If the coins both shows the head or tails then they ( the dead ancestors ) have not finished eating. 

I also came from a 'Muslim' country called Brunei and by the blessings of Allah, I came to a school with the majority of the students being Muslims. I remembered once a friend brought a comic book with pictures of the punishment of hell fire. I didn't fully comprehend them at that time. The only lesson I had at that time was never to 'tear any packages of sweets or crisps, otherwise we would be punished equally in the hereafter ).

A lesson in geography on why we could all stand and walk on the surface of the earth and not thrown out into the dark space started my journey to Islam. I came home feeling confused and asked my uncle why this is so. My uncle advised me to always asked WHY for everything. Since that day I had never started asking WHY . 

In the year 1988, I won a scholarship to come to UK to study . This had been my lifelong ambition and I had worked long and hard for this. My main aim in life up to that point was to become rich and useful and to make my parents very proud of me. The only way I know how then was to become a doctor. The helpless feeling I had when I was forced to sit next to my great grand mother's death bed till her last breath had never escaped my memory.

I studied A level in girls only school. All I know about Islam although I had many Muslims friends and live in a Muslim country then, Muslims do not eat pork, they fast in Ramadan and they were the losers. All my experience with Muslims had made me not attracted me to them although I had a strange feeling at age seven I will become a Muslim just like my uncle. I had never asked anybody about Islam for fear they will go very excited and this always frightened me and made me very shy. 

In that college, one night I dreamt I heard a loud Adhan. I walked towards it and stood infant of a big gate with Arabic writing on it. I didn't know what it meant for I knew not Arabic writings then. I felt an immense sense of peace and security. The room was illuminated with light and I saw white figures praying ( wallahu'alam ). The feeling I had was greater than I could write or expressed. The next day I forced myself to asked one of my Malaysian Muslim friend. She told me it is 'Hadassah' from Allah. This first conversation helped me to asked many more questions that had been on my mind for all these years about Islam. I had always been thought the Muslims are bad people and they always oppressed the non-Muslims etc..,That year I went back to Brunei, I told my families I want to have a year out for my mind cannot concentrate on my previous aim. I felt there was something more important than everything I had worked for all those years. Not surprisingly, I was
not allowed and had to continue in this state of mind. Days and nights I cried because I can only hear the Adhan echo in my mind up to the point my best friend thought I was crazy ( I even believed I was ).

My first contact with real practicing Muslim was my childhood friend. At that point in life she was also renewing her faith. I learnt a lot from her mostly from her actions. That was the first time I saw Islam in action ( people praying etc., ). I tried fasting then and also attempted to eat only halal food for 2-3 years before my conversion.

The turning point in my life was when I was rejected from all the universities to study medicine . I pondered about the attributes of Allah and promised Allah that should I be accepted to a medical college, I would believe all that my friends had told me . Allah is ever listening and ever presence. Miraculously, the next day I was told that despite their initial rejection, I was accepted. What can I say after that but 'There is no God but Allah and that Muhammad(saw) is the the last prophet of Allah'.

My Journey to Islam
 By D. Beatty

My name is Diana Beatty, some call me Masooma Amtullah but most do not. I am almost 23 and converted nearly 3 years ago now. I am a college student studying physics and training to become a teacher. I am a native of Colorado, USA. My father and brother are electricians. I have only one sibling, my brother, who is 27 and is married with two young children. He lives just two houses down from my parents. my mother is a legal secretary for the county attorney's office. No one in my family before me has gone to college. My father is an alcoholic and smokes a lot and his habits make the household very stressful and unhappy at times because he tends to be very selfish and angry. He is like a living dead man. My mother is bitter about him often and lives in a loveless marriage, I think. But to most appearances they are an ideal family. They keep dogs at the house, and that along with the alcohol makes visiting difficult but I try to go when I can. My
mother says I never go home enough, that is in part because she has few friends as my father prefers it that way. The family has been through a lot over the years and at least we have come to a point where we do not abandon each other even though things are not ideal. I have no children of my own yet and do not plan to right away but eventually. 

When I came to college I met a Muslim for the first time. Only after meeting some Muslims did I slowly come to realize how ignorant I was about Islam and Muslims; a lot of what I had learned growing up was quite erroneous, but for the most part I just never heard anything at all about it. I became curious about the religion because the good manners of the Muslims I met appealed to me, as well as the sincerity and worship aspect of the Muslim prayer. The idea of a religion which guided us in every aspect of life was something I had been looking for. I was raised Christian and at the time of meeting the Muslims was quite religious and studying the bible seriously. But the questions the bible left unanswered for me, the Qur'an answered. At first I did not like to read Qur'an because of what it said about Jesus not being Son of God and mention about wars that echoed in my mind what I had heard about Muslim terrorism and violence. But the Muslims I knew, I took them as my example of what a Muslim is like and saw that the stereotype I had been raised with just didn't fit. I wondered how I knew bible was right and Qur'an was wrong, especially when so much was similar between them, they seemed to originate from the same source. I could not believe my bible study teacher when he said Qur'an was from Satan and made similar to be a better deception. Nor could I believe that these Muslims who were in general far more religious and worshipping of God than the Christians would go to hell for sure, as I was taught. As I continued my study, I was able to read the bible in a new light and see contradictions and even errors and scientific fallacies that before I had dismissed as due to my failure to understand the Word of God. But these errors and contradictions were absent in Qur'an. And what Qur'an said about God and our purpose and all these things I found more logical and easier to understand, and I knew that I believed God would provide us with a religion that we could understand and that was fair. It was a difficult time but over a period of several months I studied the two religions and Islam won out, I became convinced that it was the true religion that Allah had sent for us and so I reverted. At that time I still was not sure about everything, I still was not sure about hijab in particular, and I did not know anything like how to pray etc. but in time I started to learn.

It was very difficult to conclude that everyone I had ever known, my teachers, my parents, my grandparents, my friends, my preachers, were all wrong. It was hard to decide to go against my family and do something I knew they would hate and would not understand. I was terrified to make the wrong choice, but Christianity teaches if you do not believe Jesus (pbuh) died for your sins then you go to hell (at least so the religious leaders told me), so I was afraid of being misled. I was afraid that my peers and coworkers and bosses would react negatively and even that I might be disowned from my family. My family did hate the choice but did not disown me. Our relationships was forever changed. Whenever I talk to my mother she complains about my Islamic dress, that seems to bother them more than anything, and she will send Christian religious literature to me, etc. When I first put on hijab she cried for literally a week and was so hurt, she wrote me a letter saying it was a slap in the face and I was abandoning how they raised me and trying to be an Arab. They convinced themselves that I was doing it only for my Muslim husband (I ended up marrying a Muslim man) and so they didn't like him and wished for our relationship to end. I was told by family members that I was going to hell. It was not hard to give up the non-halal food, the alcohol, to start praying, to wear hijab (after some initial difficulty), the only thing that was really hard was hurting my family and being constantly pushed by them.

In this process, I did lose a few who just could not handle the change but most of my friends did not really mind. Nor did I have any problem obtaining multiple jobs of my choice in hijab. I am generally not discriminated against at all on the college campus, although you do have to get used to stares and a more formal relationship with coworkers. I find most respect me a great deal for doing what I believe. It is only my family who has a great difficulty, because it is THEIR daughter. Well, and men never know what to think when I decline to shake their hand.

It is difficult to describe to someone who has never felt it how Islam can change and improve one's life. But Islam changed me totally. I now have no doubt about our purpose in this world and that I am following the right path, I have a certainty I never knew before, and a peace that goes with it. God's plan makes much more sense to me and I feel I have an idea where I belong. Plus, through Islam, it is rarely an ambiguous question if something is right or wrong, unlike my Christian friends who often doubt if they are doing the right thing. I finally have a hold on the things that really matter and am not lost anymore. I didn't even really know I was lost before, but when I found Islam and looked back it was so clear to me that I had been searching for years. Alhamdulilah I was guided. Islam also improved my life as a woman in that I find good Muslim men treat women with so much more respect than is found in American society that I am raised in. I feel special to be a woman, before I was always a little uncomfortable as a woman because I felt my life would be easier if I had been a man because as a woman I found myself faced with incredible responsibility of working full time and raising a family and cooking and cleaning and never fitting in fully to any of those roles. As a Muslim woman I feel freer to look at myself and choose the path which truly suits my nature and have others accept that, and I feel like a woman and it feels good; like coming home. Reverting to Islam feels like coming home.

My Journey to Islam
By Ulf Karlsson

WHAT ARE THE TRUE FACTORS THAT BROUGHT YOU TO ISLAM?
Tough question. I guess the logic of it all. You see. I had no belief in god, and all this religious stuff seemed strange to me. But then I had some powerful "god-experiences" whilst out taking pictures sin the wilderness. A great sense of belonging to something bigger, being a tiny part of a plan for all the creation.

I don't know how long I have favored Islam, I just knew that Christianity wasn't for me. I couldn't accept all the layers of "servants" and clerks between me and God. Priests, bishops etc. And worshiping the "half-god" Jesus seemed really strange

I found a friend on the net, she too were a convert, and her liberal, yet firm belief spoke to my heart too. And gradually I began to believe in God (of course I after my God-experiences, what could I do?)

Reading the Qur'an, and listening to Muslims were the key factors. The logic and reasoning of the Qur'an. the scientific facts. All made it clear to me that this was not the work of a man, but the words of God.

And there you have it, I believed in God, and fully accepted that Muhammad(saw) were one of God's Prophets. Whet else could I do but Revert to Islam?


WHAT DIFFICULTIES YOU HAD IN THE WAY?
Only my own cowardliness. My previous experiences with Muslims were nil. And I've always looked at religious people with skepticism. I were simply afraid what would happened to me. If I tried to search my own feelings. Afraid of what I might become.

Also living in a community without Muslims made it harder, I have to travel 1 hour to get to the nearest Muslim community. And there were not always the possibility to go and see them when I needed to.


WHEN DID YOU COME TO ISLAM AND WHAT WAS THE RESPONSE OF YOUR FAMILY AND FRIENDS?
I converted the 24th of July this year, but what made me take the step that day is a long story. Let's just say that Allah gave me some subtle pushes...

The response from friends and relatives is all positive. They have all taken it very well, of course they have asked some polite questions; like why, and why not Christianity. But. I must repeat, only positive responses (at least as far as I know) my dad makes some silly jokes, but that's just the way he is.

HOW ISLAM CAN CHANGE AND IMPROVE ONE'S LIFE?
I don't know how, but I'm much happier now. Not so tense and uptight. Secure in my belief and secure in Allah's protection. My friends say I', much more relaxed, spreading an atmosphere of control and calmness around to people. 

I were never much of a party animal, so there's no change there, but others have given up their bad habits and are living a much healthier life. I treat women with much more respect (at least I want to) than before. Especially Muslim women whom I hold in high regard now.

And finally, Islam made me grow up. I feel much more mature. Perhaps because the searching for peace of mind is over. This is the biggest difference I feel within myself as a consequence of reverting to Islam.


PLEASE TELL US MORE ABOUT YOURSELF AND YOUR FAMILY.
Oh. I'm a 25 year old (male) Swede from the mid-class. Grown up in a stable home with both parents working, no problems in the family what-so-ever (I'm being the black sheep by converting to Islam..) Have a good job at a Nuclear power plant maintaining health-physics and other instruments. A job I really like (although some days I feel like killing my boss.)

I'm in the process of getting new connections and friends within the Muslim community, which isn't as easy as it sounds, living 60 miles from the nearest Muslims. e-mail and the internet is a great help to me. accessing Muslim communities all around the globe.

If you're a revert and want to share your experiences with the rest of the world. Please send them to us.